Brothers in Arms
by TrudyW
Summary: Set a week after the finale of the movie Avengers Assemble, a lone man struggles with his grief and anguish. Rating for final chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note : This is a new story I started some time ago. I know that with my older stories I have struggled to maintain even a vaguely respectable posting schedule so I've held off on posting this one until it was fundamentally complete. Now the final chapter is at 3500 words and going well and I can't restrain myself any longer.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it and I'd love to hear your thoughts in a review. I've recently had to admit the truth to myself, I'm a bit of a review whore and get cranky when not regularly fed although I'm working on that, not particularly attractive, trait, you have been warned.

Chapter 1

A harsh sob rang out through the cold, empty darkness. It echoed off the twisted, ruined metal that littered the room, even after the sound was choked off at the source. Had anyone been there to try to trace the sound they would have been hard put to it to do so in the inky blackness. However had they bought a lantern and were they prepared to poke through the tangled wreckage left by the rampaging Hulk, then, if they persevered they might have found him, curled in an almost foetal position, wedged into a tiny gap in amongst the mangled remains of the machinery that used to fill this space.

He huddled there a pitiable figure, streaked with the soot left behind by the fire that had raged through this area only a week before. Tear tracks left twin lines down his face as he rocked gently in place, one arm clutching his legs tightly to his chest, chin tucked in resting on his knees, the knuckles of his other hand stuffed into his mouth to stifle any further sounds that might betray his position.

Screwing his eyes shut he seemed to be trying to make himself even smaller as he pulled his limbs in tighter against his body. Biting down hard on the knuckle jammed between his teeth he fought to subdue the new wave of grief and anguish that roared through his body, a keening wail struggling to burst free.

Suddenly he stilled, the beaten, broken man of a moment before disappeared as if he had never been, replaced by a warrior, every line of his body taut and poised to attack, his head snapped up as he strained to hear again the sound that had sliced through his distress.

There it was! the jovial sound of a laugh, barely audible over the all pervasive hum of the four giant rotors that kept the mighty helicarrier hovering high above the planet's surface. Slowly his head turned, staring blindly through the darkness as he listened intently. Minutes passed with no repeat of the laugh but the tension within his body did not ease. Something in the atmosphere had shifted and he knew that he was no longer alone, no longer safe.

He'd been trying to get away for days, desperate for escape, watched everywhere he went, eyes following his every move. Finally this morning he'd seen his chance and seized upon it. Repairs to the great ship had been proceeding apace, shifts of men working day and night to fix the damage wrought by attacks from within and without. He'd pitched in, everybody had, but the double and sometimes triple shifts had to take their toll.

The hull was the first priority, everyone would feel much safer without the gaping holes that left the vessel and all within her vulnerable to attack or simply to accidents if the damaged plating gave way at an inopportune moment. Unfortunately the huge plates took time to fabricate, especially those for the lower hull that incorporated the optical camouflage technology that allowed them to hide the ship from unfriendly eyes.

Work had had to proceed without that protection in place. All workers were using safety harnesses but this morning disaster had struck. Joe Morena, an electrical engineer from Baltimore, sloppy with tiredness had failed to properly fasten his harness, mid way through his shift Joe had slipped from the beam he was using to traverse one of the great rifts in the hull and he had fallen. The savage jerk that stopped his fall as he reached the end of the rope securing him had weakened his poorly fastened harness further and as his colleagues rushed to pull him up the last straps holding him safe slowly ripped free and Joe fell.

The man huddled in the bowels of the helicarrier thought back to that heart-stopping moment. He'd been further away than most when he heard Joe's scream as he first fell and he had immediately rushed forward to help. However when he saw Joe fall free he knew there was nothing he could do, the flyers were already being called for and they were high enough up that there was a good chance someone would get to the falling man before he hit dirt. All he needed to do was to remember his training, keep his body flat and do all that he could to slow his descent, giving his rescuers time to get to him.

There it was, a streak of red and gold rounded the hull of the helicarrier and darted down after the falling man.

Suddenly he had realised that this was his moment, everyone was in shock, peering out through the holes in the hull, trying to track the falling body, watching the rescue in progress. No-one was looking at him! For the first time since they had returned to the ship there were no eyes tracking his every move.

A quick glance around confirmed that he was unobserved and softly he took one step backwards towards the shadows

"Hey!" a voice shouted and he froze, but no, he was still unobserved. It was one of the foremen, starting to drag the workmen back from their rubber-necking, back to work. He realised that his window of opportunity was closing. If he wanted to slip away unseen then he had to go, now!

Swift as thought he turned and with a few silent steps he was gone. Hidden in the shadows as he made his way down into the bowels of the ship. Down to the areas where no repair teams yet ventured. until he found himself in this place, the inky, blackness suited his purpose and his mood and he had groped his way to this small niche, crammed his body inside and finally given way to the grief that overwhelmed him.

In a cathartic release of pent-up anger and sorrow all that he had been holding close for the last week finally spilled out of him as he ranted and railed against an indifferent fate. He mourned those whose deaths he had caused, the innocents he had killed or injured and the destruction he had wreaked both on this vessel and on the planet below.

But now the interlude was over, he could hear quiet voices as they got nearer, see the occasional flash of light as the torches of the searchers swept past doorways or rents in the mangled walls of this place. Scrubbing the tear tracks from his face with grimy hands he pulled his mask back into place. Not a physical mask but none the less real for all that as it hid the turmoil within leaving only a confident, calm, cheerful exterior that could be relied upon in any eventuality.

Easing himself out of his hiding place, he was not a small man and that was a very small space, he pulled himself to his feet, he would not have them find him weeping in a corner. No, he would face them head on, he groped his way back across the room to the door and, head held high he stepped through to face... his friends.

AN: Well, what do you think, who is the mystery man? Is it actually a mystery at all? Have I managed to pull this off? A virtual gingerbread man cupcake to whoever guesses correctly first. :-)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tony and Steve picked their way through the devastated lower levels of the helicarrier. They were worried about their friend. Steve had been searching the ship for hours, he'd covered the behemoth from top to bottom with no sign of the missing man.

It wasn't like Clint to walk away and leave a job unfinished but that appeared to be exactly what he had done that morning. No-one begrudged him the time, he'd been working double and triple shifts, only taking a few hours out to sleep when he could no longer stand or if someone, usually the Widow dragged him off and physically forced him to lie down. Of course, as tired as he was, as soon as someone did force him horizontal sleep hit him hard and he was out like a light, at least until the nightmares came and pulled him back from the sandman's embrace.

Steve had heard the nightmares, he thought that all of the team had but no-one was talking about it, least of all Clint himself. He tried to keep watch over all the team, he was a mother-hen, there was no denying it and things had been hard for all of them, but it had to be hardest for the Hawk. Barton had killed people whilst under Loki's influence, good agents that he had worked with in the past, agents whose friends and colleagues he would have to work with again in the future. Add to that the death of Phil Coulson, his long time handler and friend, and Steve knew that Clint had a lot to deal with. The problem was he didn't seem to be dealing with it.

Steve had tried to keep a special eye on Clint, and he knew that Fury had men assigned to watch him as well. They all knew the influence that Loki had wielded but Fury didn't trust easily and he needed to know that there were no lingering after-effects of the mischief gods meddling. Steve thought that if Clint were to show some outward sign of the turmoil that had to be raging inside him then that might make it easier for Fury to move forward but Clint wasn't that man. From things that Natasha had let slip, intentionally he assumed, that woman never said or did anything that hadn't been calculated six ways from Sunday, he knew that Clint was actually a very private individual. He kept everything bottled up inside whilst showing an open, confident mask to the world.

It had been lunch time when Steve had gone to find Clint, intending to drag the other man to the mess hall and ensure that he ate a decent meal. But when he got to the area where Clint should have been working the foreman had told him that he'd disappeared mid-morning, just after Joe took his swan-dive through the hole in the hull. He'd just assumed that Clint had been called away on Avengers business, it wouldn't have been the first time.

At first Steve had just shrugged it off and left but the more he thought about it the more he was sure that nothing had come up that morning that required urgent input from Clint, he checked around discreetly and wasn't surprised when soon he confirmed his suspicions. No-one had requested Clint's help and no-one knew where he was. With his concern now seriously aroused Steve had started to search in earnest, starting with the highest parts of the ship, Clint wasn't called Hawkeye for nothing, the man had a serious obsession with altitude!

Around five that evening he had run into Tony, out of the suit and heading for his lab for a little down-time. Nonchalantly he'd asked if Tony had seen Clint, but apparently it hadn't been nonchalantly enough and Tony had quickly caught on to his concern and wormed the entire story out of him. It was he who had suggested that if Clint hadn't gone high, then maybe he'd gone low. There were plenty of places to hide in the lower hull, places that the work-crews hadn't even begun to repair yet.

Grabbing a couple of torches they had made their way down into the bowels of the ship and starting at the stern had commenced the search. It had taken them two hours to get this far, Steve estimated they were probably somewhere amid-ships by now. Throughout the search Tony had regaled him with various tales of daring-do. The story of his gallant rescue of the hapless Joe had occupied the first half-hour, after that the conversation had ranged over many subjects from Tony's adventures in the Iron-man suit to his prowess in the board room to his genius in the lab. In fact come to think of it it hadn't been so much a conversation as a monologue on the brilliance that is Tony Stark, gee that man could talk!

Steve had long ago tuned out the voice of his companion, paying only enough attention to throw in the odd word of agreement or encouragement as required. In fact it had taken him a moment or two to notice that the voice had stopped! Looking up sharply from the pile of debris that was currently blocking his path Steve saw that Tony was staring intently away, down the twisted remains of the corridor they were searching. Following the light from Tony's torch Steve squinted, was that movement he saw?

Yes it was, covered in soot from head to foot, face split with a wide grin, there walking towards them was the very man that Steve had just spent seven hours searching for.

"Hey, what are you guys doing down here?" came the cheerful greeting and in that moment Steve nearly lost it. He was normally a patient man but just now he was tired, hungry and filthy, all that along with the natural relief at seeing his friend apparently fine and unhurt resulted in a sudden backlash of emotion. The angry retort on the tip of his tongue was bitten off short though as Tony beat him to the reply, "just a little reconnaissance, we're hoping to get the repair crews working down here sometime in the next week."

Why was Tony lying? It wasn't like him, he was far more likely to tease someone mercilessly than to tell little white lies to spare their feelings. He's surely love to rib Clint about the time they had spent searching for him whilst he apparently took a quiet stroll though the depths of the ship.

Then he realised why, Clint had reached them now and Steve was shocked at his appearance in the combined light of their torches. From a distance the wide grin had been the only thing he had really seen, white teeth practically glowing in his soot-streaked face, up close the puffy, red-rimmed eyes told a different story. Had Clint been crying?

"OK, well, I'll leave you to it," and Clint tried to squeeze his way past the two men who had moved together as he approached.

"Nah, that's alright, I think we've done enough for today" Tony replied and slinging an arm around Clint's shoulders he headed back the way they had come, taking the other man with him. Steve followed along behind, his thoughts in turmoil as he listened to the easy banter between the two men in front of him.

Steve had spent a lot of time people watching in his youth, that tended to happen when you were too weak, too scrawny and too sickly to be included in the activities that occupied your contemporaries. With all the practice he'd gotten pretty good at reading people over the years, when his temper didn't get in the way that was. Of course it helped that although attitudes had changed in the time he'd been frozen, at heart human beings were still the same creatures they had always been.

Now as he trailed along behind the other two his eyes were on Clint's back and he was listening to their conversation intently. The light, flippant back and forth was totally at odds with the stress and tension that he could see in the broad shoulders before him. As he followed he saw Clint's hands clenching into fists and releasing repeatedly, tension rippled from the man in waves but Tony seemed completely oblivious and simply steered them back up to the occupied levels by the most direct route.

When they reached a lighted corridor once more Clint seemed to try to break away from Tony's arm which was still loosely slung around his shoulders. However apparently the hold wasn't that loose, Tony showed no sign of noticing Clint's desire to break away and he continued undeterred on his own path. It seemed Clint didn't want to make a fuss because he didn't push it and gave up on trying to break away, gave up far too easily in Steve's opinion.

As he followed along behind Steve wasn't paying any attention to where they were going, all the corridors within the gigantic metal vessel looked pretty much the same to him anyway and it wasn't until Tony hit the control to open a door that Steve realised where they were. As the door opened the staggering opulence revealed could mean only one thing, Tony's private quarters. If the sumptuous furnishings, installed at Tony's own very great expense and to Fury's even greater disgust weren't enough then the beautiful strawberry blonde reclining on the couch would have confirmed their location.

"Hi Pepper," Tony called out cheerily as he steered Clint into the room.

"Hello Miss Potts" Steve greeted the woman quietly, flushing slightly as she uncoiled gracefully from her position, gathering up the papers she had been working on.

"Tony, Clint, Steve" she greeted the three men casually, "I can see you're going to be busy this evening, I'll see you tomorrow. And with that she moved towards the door, carefully skirting the three men in the tight space, unwilling to transfer any of the filth that covered them to herself.

"Thanks babe" was Tony's only reply as he manoeuvred Clint further into the room.

Steve merely nodded as Pepper passed by him on her way out but at the door she turned back to him for a moment, "and Steve, it's Pepper, remember?"

Steve ducked his head briefly and when he looked up again she was gone. Miss Potts... Pepper was so different from the women of his own time he was often at a loss as to how to interact with her. She never did anything to make him uncomfortable but society seemed so much more relaxed these days and it was taking time for him to adjust.

"Right Clint, shower's through there, off you go." Tony's tone allowed no option of refusal and a strangely silent Clint simply walked through the indicated door and moments later they heard the sound of water.

Steve fidgeted slightly, not quite sure what Tony had in mind, he was surprised by his disappointment when Tony waved a careless hand at the door back to the corridor, "well, off you go!" He bit down on his hurt at the sudden dismissal. Tony would take care of Clint, Steve wasn't needed.

"I've only got two showers in this place, you'll have to clean up in your own room, unless you want to share?" the last was said with a lascivious wink that would have seriously flustered Steve at any other time. Now however he was simply overwhelmingly grateful that he wasn't being dismissed after all and the words barely registered, the next ones though did register, pulling him attention sharply back to the matter at hand.

"Don't take too long, this has gone on long enough. We've tried your insanely repressed 'Forties man', 'leave him work it out himself' way and it's not working, now we do this my way!"

Steve felt the irritation that Tony aroused in him so easily surging forward now, "Oh, and your way being?"

Tony grabbed up the full bottle of Scotch standing on the sideboard behind him and hefted it above his head, but not too high, the ceilings in this part of the ship were pretty low, almost enough to make one feel somewhat claustrophobic.

"My way!" he reiterated, "now get a move on, I don't know how long he'll be in there and I need to get cleaned up too."

A/N Well! What do you think? Am I wasting your time? Do I continue?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note :** Well, this is chapter 3, thank you to **Eloshazzy** for your review, it was much appreciated.

**Chapter 3**

Steve took Tony's words to heart. Within five minutes he was showered, changed and hitting the control to open the door to Tony's quarters. He'd been so quick the water in his shower had barely had time to heat up, but a hot shower had been a luxury in his day and if he'd been able to deal with the cold pre Captain America he certainly wasn't going to let it slow him down now. As soon as he'd finished dressing he'd paid a quick visit to Clint's room to pick up a change of clothes and now here he was back at Tony's and just in time.

As the door opened there was no sign of the room's official occupant other than the cloud of steam leaking around a door off to the right but there directly in front of him, wrapped in a dressing gown of rich, crimson brocade, obviously one of Tony's, was Clint. He was looking back over his shoulder as he hit the door control and hadn't noticed Steve waiting in the corridor, apparently they had both hit the control simultaneously. Darting out of the door, confident that Tony was still occupied and wouldn't be able to prevent his escape he was brought up short when he slammed into a wall, a wall that shouldn't have been there, a wall clad in a sky-blue cotton t-shirt and black, denim jeans. Bouncing back he flinched away from the arms that reached to steady him, in the process clearing the doorway so that Steve could enter, the door clanging shut behind him.

Not knowing what to say in the awkward silence that followed Steve simply thrust the bundle of clothes into Clint's arms with a muttered, "thought you'd need these" and with a wistful look at the door now blocked by Steve's impressive bulk he turned and headed back the way Tony had indicated earlier for the shower, presumably to dress.

Thoughtfully Steve settled down on the couch to think. He knew that since his transformation people sometimes found him physically imposing, he'd even played on that occasionally to inspire fear in his enemies, but to see that fear in the eyes of a friend, that was something he'd never imagined and something he never wanted to see again. As he sat he began to sink into the brooding darkness that took hold of him far too frequently for his own peace of mind, something that had only happened since he awoke to find himself alone, a man displaced from his own time. But before he had time to sink too far the door across the room opened and Tony stepped through.

"Ah, I thought I heard the door." Tony greeted his guest, "is he still..." he trailed off, gesturing to the other shower door.

"He was just leaving when I got back," he held up a hand to forestall Tony who looked about ready to set out in pursuit once more at Steve's words. "I brought him some clothes, he's back in there dressing."

"How come you get such large quarters, this must be twice the of mine or Clint's rooms?" Steve asked, the question had been bugging him since he'd first entered the room maybe ten minutes earlier.

"It is twice the size of yours, Clint's or anyone else's quarters," Tony replied, "Mine," he gestured to one half of the room, "Pepper's" waving an arm over the other half. "I had them knocked through."

The strait-laced, forties man inside of Steve was somewhat shocked at the couple sharing quarters outside of wedlock but he knew things were more relaxed these days and he tried not to judge, instead he asked, "and Fury allowed that?"

"Ah, well, he might not actually know yet." Tony clarified.

Steve just quirked an eyebrow at the admission when he was suddenly struck by another thought, "if these are Miss Potts, Pepper's quarters, where is she going to be spending the night?"

"She mentioned something about a girly night in with Natasha." At Steve's confused look he elaborated, "a slumber-party."

Steve's mind balked at trying to envisage it, his confusion wasn't because he didn't know what a girly night in was, they'd had them, even back in his day, hell he'd be prepared to bet cave girls had had them! It was simply the idea of the Black Widow indulging in one! Pepper, sure he could see that, giggling, watching chick-flicks and painting toe-nails, not often but he could see it happening now and then. But Natasha, the picture refused to render in his mind's eye and he shook off the somewhat disturbing image to return to the business at hand.

Before he had a chance to ask Tony about the plan for tonight however the door behind him opened and Clint walked back into the room. As he stepped into Steve's line of sight, dressed in the skin-tight black jeans and practically spray-on black wife-beater Steve saw that the mask was now firmly back in place. However, having had a glimpse behind the mask Steve now found the cracks much easier to spot and he hoped that Tony's plan, whatever it was, would work.

"Well, thanks for the shower, I'd better get going, I'm sure you guys have plans for tonight," and Clint tried to breeze past his host to escape the room.

"Not so fast, we've all been working our asses off trying to get this flying heap back together. We've earned a night off." And blocking the path to the door, Tony directed his captive towards the couch were Steve sat.

"Really, I have to go," Clint tried again, resisting the, not too gentle, pressure from Tony to take a seat, "I have a shift scheduled, they're expecting me."

"No they're not, I spoke to Clive," at Clint's blank look he clarified, "the foreman on duty tonight. I told him you have other plans, it's time we had a boys night in!"

Stymied Clint allowed Tony to steer him to a seat, vowing internally to get out of there as soon as possible. It was nice of the guys to pretend they wanted to spend time with him but it was obvious that it couldn't be what they really wanted. Not after all he'd done, the damage he'd caused, the people he'd killed.

It wasn't often that Tony Stark was serious about anything, but at this moment he was seriously worried about Clint. When Clint had shaken off Loki's hold, aided by a thump upside the head from the Black Widow, Tony had seen a brash, confident warrior, a man brave and fearless who had played a vital role in the final battle. After the battle though, when things had calmed down and people had time to think Clint had changed. The brash confidence was still there, but it no longer seemed genuine, now it looked like a paper thin veneer slapped over a grieving, distraught man who thought he had no-one to turn to. Tony planned to change that tonight, show Clint that he wasn't alone in dealing with all that had happened to him, that he had Tony, Steve, in fact an entire team to turn to.

Clint sat where Tony had placed him, he watched the other two men in the room, Steve appeared to be deep in thought, and Tony was rummaging through a cupboard looking for something. He wondered how long he would have to stay before the others would let him leave. Tony had said they were having a boy's night in, strange but it looked more like an intervention to him. Then it struck him, it was an intervention, they were going to ask him to leave, what else could it be, why would they want to continue working with him after all he had done, they couldn't ever trust him again. Oh God! none of the super hero teams would want anything to do with him after what he'd done, images of dingy carnivals paraded through his mind as he remembered what his early years had been like after the death of his parents. How could he go back to that again, and without even having Barney there beside him.

Panic rose up inside of him, his eyes darted towards the exit once more but Steve was watching him, there was no way out. Suddenly there was no air in the room, Clint tried to pull oxygen into his lungs but there was none to be had, he looked to Steve and Tony, there must have been another attack, but no, Steve still sat watching him and Tony was wiping the tumblers he'd pulled from the cupboard on a glass cloth. What was going on, why were Steve and Tony unaffected by the sudden vacuum in the room. Leaning forward he struggled to breathe, to find some wisp of air in the room, to fill his starved lungs but there was nothing, his hands clenched on the edge of the seat cushion, knuckles white from the strength of his grip, his lungs tightened in his chest as his vision began to blacken about the edges.

Then suddenly someone was there, through his panic he couldn't focus on anything except the brown paper bag being held to his mouth, he tried to fight free but then the voice registered, deep and soothing, crooning into his ear, "shhh, slow down , deep, slow breaths." He instinctively knew he could trust that voice, he stopped fighting and tried to follow the instructions, it was hard, his body desperately wanted to pull in as much oxygen as it could. as fast as it could but he fought it and slowly he was winning.

As the air returned to his lungs he began to register more of what was going on, he felt a warm presence against his side, a warm hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. He realised his eyes were closed, he knew he should open them but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It had to be Steve or Tony that was helping him, holding him, or maybe not, maybe Thor or Banner had joined them, it was supposed to be a boys night in after all. Whoever it was it, was nice and, pathetic as it might be, he didn't want it to stop, after all, as soon as he was better they'd be able to get back to the original purpose of this get-together, throwing him off the team. At the thought the air, so recently returned to the room, began to leech away again and he started to struggle for breath once more. The warm body beside him shifted even closer, whoever it was must have noticed his renewed distress. A large hand landed on his knee and the gentle pressure on his back increased slightly as the soft murmurs in his ear carried on, offering quiet support and encouragement.

Eventually he knew he could delay no more, he pushed away the paper bag, but still he kept his eyes closed, his head hanging down as he steeled himself for what was coming. The gentle murmurs in his ear stopped at his actions then a different voice asked "you OK buddy?" The voice was Tony's, but it came from somewhere in front of him, so Steve was sat beside him, he wasn't sure how he knew it was still just the three of them, but he did.

Bracing himself he prepared to open his eyes, he might be pathetic enough to succumb to a panic attack but he still had some standards, he wouldn't beg for his place on the team. Taking one last deep breath he opened his eyes, "Please don't make me leave." OK, apparently his standards had fallen lower than he thought!

Tony was sat opposite him, the only other armchair in the room pulled up close so that he could rest a reassuring hand on Clint's knee, Steve was beside him, his hand a still, warm pressure between his shoulder blades. Silently he waited, he saw the small frown that appeared between Steve's brows and felt Tony's grip tighten on his knee. "You're not going anywhere," it was Tony who broke the silence, "we need to talk."

Resignation rolled over him, they were determined then, his eyes briefly fluttered closed but he forced them open once more, "There's no need, I'll clear out my quarters and hitch a ride down on the next transport." The mask he'd worn when he first stepped into the room had completely disintegrated by now and he could only manage a weary whisper as he finished, "I'm sorry."

"What part of 'you're not going anywhere' did you not understand?" Tony asked with a characteristic quirk to his eyebrow.

"Clint, why would you want to leave the ship?" Steve asked with concern.

His eyes flickered between the two men as they waited for his response. He was confused, surely they wouldn't expect him to remain as part of the work-crew, they couldn't be that cruel. Then he saw the logic in it, he had caused so much of the damage, of course they would expect him to stay and repair his handiwork. "I'm off the team, I know that, but I'll..." he never had chance to finish his sentence as beside him Steve surged to his feet.

"Who said you're off the team, if Fury thinks he can meddle in my team!" Clint had never heard the normally mild-mannered Steve Rogers sound so angry as the large man headed for the door but Tony stopped him.

"WAIT!" then in a quieter voice to Clint he asked, "why do you think you're off the team?"

Now he was really confused and getting angry, "Isn't that why we're here? So you can tell me to leave, I suppose Thor and Banner will be along later for the 'boys night in', after you two have finished taking out the trash!"

"Thor is spending the evening with Jane and Banner won't be joining us, Bruce and alcohol, not a good combination, you do not want to see The Other Guy on a bender!" Clint wondered when Tony could ever have seen the Hulk the worse for drink, Banner was generally so careful, then he realised that he was wandering away from the point.

"You're not kicking me off the team?" Clint asked hopefully as it finally began to sink in.

Steve re-took his place on the sofa next to Clint gently shaking his head, "No, we're not."

"I can stay?"

Tony nodded, "yes, you can stay."

Clint slumped back on the sofa, he felt a sudden burning lump in the back of his throat as tears threatened to force their way from his eyes, blurring his vision.

Clint was grateful for the privacy to get himself back under control as Tony moved back to his place at the sideboard and Steve's gaze followed.

"There's no point pouring one of those for me," Steve stated matter-of-factly and Clint looked up to see Tony sloshing liberal quantities of whiskey into two of the tumblers he had unearthed earlier.

"Super Soldier Serum leads to Super Fast Metabolism" Steve explained, "I burn through alcohol too fast to feel the effects."

"Ah, that may not have any effect," Tony passed a glass to Clint before raising his own to take a quick swig, "but this on the other hand..." and he reached into the cupboard to retrieve an interesting shaped bottle filled with a clear, sparkling liquid. "Thor dropped this by earlier, he had his father send it over from his private stores. It's called Odin's Vann apparently, if it's enough to get a God legless it should be enough to at least give you a bit of a buzz."

Tony half filled a tumbler before handing it to Steve who held it up to the light, eyeing it dubiously. Even in the plain glass the liquid still scintillated brightly, flashes of light sparked within, so bright they were almost painful to the eyes. Clint watched, his own untouched glass held on his knee as he wondered if Steve would actually try the drink. Of course he should never have doubted and as he watched Steve raised the glass to his lips and took a tentative sip.

You could have heard a pin drop in the room as Steve rolled the liquid about his mouth, not something you could often say of a room containing Tony Stark. Finally Steve swallowed with a pleased grin, "Ah, peppery" and this time he took a decent slug that significantly lowered the level in his glass.

Tony took a slug of his whiskey to hide his own grin, he hadn't been entirely sure this would work but the slight flush staining Steve's cheeks told him that Thor's offering was doing its job. Now he just needed to get the other guys to relax and give the alcohol time to work its magic.

Placing the two bottles within easy reach, Tony resumed his position in the lone armchair as Steve and Clint settled back on the couch. "So did you see my amazing rescue this morning?" Tony asked brightly, addressing himself to Clint and then answering his own question. "No, of course you didn't, you were too busy slinking off to play hookie in the bowels of this metal behemoth." and with that he launched into a colourful and somewhat exaggerated account of his rescue of Joe Morena that morning.

"... So then he said, 'Are you going to rescue me or not?' and obviously I couldn't just let that one lie so I came back with 'I didn't realise it was optional' and started to fly back up and he started yelling, 'Not Optional! Not Optional!" Tony cracked up at the memory. "Although by that time I could practically read the license plates of passing cars so I came up from beneath him, Superman style, and brought him back to the helicarrier." He mused silently on his own brilliance for a moment before ending with "and I now have a standing invitation to Mama Morena's place for the best Mushroom Risotto in the northern hemisphere!"

"Have I told you about my first day as Captain America?" Steve asked the room at large after they'd finished laughing at Tony's account of his feat of daring do earlier in the day. "I woke up in the morning a 90lb weakling, even shorter than Tony here!" He broke off with a laugh as the offended genius kicked him in the ankle but no further revenge seemed to be in the offing so he carried on. "Peggy drove with me to the secret facility, it was an odd drive, I wasn't used to talking to women who actually listened to what I was saying. I ended up pointing out all the places I'd been beaten up, not a great pick-up technique!"

Absentmindedly Steve held out his, now empty, glass for a refill and Tony happily obliged. He and his father had never really bonded and he was eager to hear about such a significant day, not just in Steve's life but also in his father's. Draining half the newly refilled glass Steve ruminated on that day before he continued, "The serum worked," he held wide his arms as if to offer himself as proof, "obviously. But what should have been the greatest day of my life turned to disaster when a German agent blew up the facility and killed Erskine. I chased him down, through the streets of Manhattan. I'd never before been able to run so far, so fast, hell did you know I out-swam a submarine that day!" He paused a moment, considering the immense change that his life had undergone in those few short hours.

Lost in the memory he continued as if he had forgotten that the other two men were there. "I caught the guy who did it. Heinz Kruger, one of the Red Skulls top men had insinuated his way into Senator Brandt's entourage. He didn't say much, he killed himself with a cyanide capsule, but I tell you, that man's voice would have made the pope think twice..." he trailed off realising just how much he was giving away. He watched the light sparkling within his glass, perhaps this Odin's Vann was affecting him more than he had thought.

The moment was broken seconds later as Tony grabbed up the two bottles off the floor, pouring a generous glassful of the clear liquid for Steve and slopping equally generous portions of the amber one into his and Clint's glasses.

Clint had the vague idea that he should object, but after the long days and nights working on the repairs to the helicarrier, little sleep, little food, his tolerance for alcohol was far lower than it had been at any time since his teens. And, whilst he might usually be considered a responsible adult, fully capable of saying no, he'd actually passed that point several refills back and without thinking he took a long sip, rolling the liquor around his mouth before enjoying the long, slow burn as it slipped down his throat.

They'd been talking for hours, each telling tales of their lives, some outlandish some deeply emotional and all things in between. Steve had just finished telling of the death of his best friend, Bucky Barnes, falling from a moving train as it travelled along a steep mountain pass. Clint was just trying to decide which story he should contribute next when Tony took the decision out of his hands with a seeming non-sequitur, "It wasn't your fault you know."

Looking up he expected Tony to be looking at Steve, responding to his grief at the death of the man who had been such a large part of his life, pre and post super soldier serum. But instead he found two pairs of eyes focused on himself. Darting his eyes between the two of them he shook his head, trying to clear the alcohol induced fuzz from his brain. Forcing a laugh he asked, "I'm lost, what were we talking about?"

"What Loki did, what he made you do. It wasn't your fault." Tony clarified, the words hitting Clint like a punch in the gut.

Standing he flung himself across the room, angrily making space between himself and the men who had blind-sided him. He turned, throwing out his arm and drawing in a breath to shout his anger but he stopped dead. Staring at his outflung hand he focussed on the forgotten tumbler that he held. With a shrug he brought it to his lips and drained the remaining whisky, head back and eyes closed he felt it burn its way to his stomach.

Straightening he looked again at the two men, still watching him from a few paces away across the room and his anger surged back into life. Drawing back his arm he hurled the tumbler across the room where it shattered into a million tiny shards on contact with the wall. It would have been so easy to shout, to scream and rail against Loki for what he had done to him, but he didn't. He raised a hand, pointing to Tony, saying in an uncharacteristically harsh voice "You know nothing about it! You weren't there, you don't know what it was like, to have him sifting through my mind. The knowledge he offered, it was all so clear, it made so much sense." He stood there, his hand dropped back to his side and he fell back into those days.

From the moment Loki's staff had touched his chest everything had been so clear, he'd known all he needed to know, he'd understood Loki's plan, he'd seen the utopia that would follow once mankind was released from the yoke of freedom into slavery under a benevolent god, Loki. More than that, he'd known who he needed to kill to make it happen!

He didn't even notice as he dropped to his knees, he was trapped, twisting and turning inside his own mind as he tried to reconcile the man he knew himself to be with one who could believe the lies that Loki had fed him. Then they were there, Tony and Steve kneeling beside him, holding him close, not trying to make him stand, not trying to say they understood, just there, holding him and letting him hold on to them. The silent support broke through all his barriers and the words were rent from him, "How could I not have known it was wrong, why didn't my conscience stop me? All those people dead. Selvig saw knowledge, why did I only see death?" He was sobbing now but the words that had been running on continuous loop in his head since the adrenaline had cleared after the final battle wouldn't be stopped, they burst free, "How can anyone forgive me, I can never forgive myself!" It was a relief to have them out in the open, the words that had haunted his every waking moment and wrenched him from whatever restless sleep he'd been able to snatch.

As Tony held Clint in his arms, the younger man's body shaking with the sobs that seemed drawn from the very depths of his soul, he knew that this could so easily have been him. If Loki hadn't been stupid enough to think he could take over his mind through the arc reactor in his chest he too would have fallen under the mischief gods thrall. He just hoped he'd done the right thing in forcing Clint to open up about what he'd gone through. He wasn't naive enough to think that one emotional outpouring, a few tears and Clint would be fixed, but he thought they'd made a good start. If Clint could just be brought to see that there were people there for him, that he didn't have to face this trauma alone, then Tony hoped that, in time, he would recover.

As Steve knelt, holding and supporting Clint from the other side he thought on the enigma that was Tony Stark. He watched him now, his thoughts writ plain upon his face. Steve wondered if anyone would ever believe him if he told them of this warm, compassionate man who had the courage to help his friends, even when they didn't want to be helped. A lone tear trickled down his cheek as he realised the damage that could have been done by his own, leave him to deal with it himself, policy. The damage that may already have been done. He vowed to follow Tony's lead, and to do all that was required to help Clint heal.

Finally Clint's sobs subsided and Tony gently withdrew from the three-way embrace, leaving Clint slumped in Steve's arms. Standing he took a moment to shake the kinks out of his legs from kneeling for so long. Looking down he saw Steve watching him over the tousled head that rested against his shoulder. With a quick smile he moved to open the door to his own bedroom, "bring him in here." he instructed and Steve adjusted his arms before his powerful legs thrust him upright, cradling Clint to him like a babe.

Weakly, Clint tried to object, but he was barely awake, the emotional upheaval, the alcohol and the physical exhaustion all contributing to his weakened condition. "I can stand," he said as he pushed at Steve's chest trying to convince the larger man to release him.

But Steve just hitched him closer and his gentle, "let us help you." blasted through the last of Clint's defences.

He gave up his struggles to escape, instead wrapping his arms around Steve's neck muttering, "my hero!" sleepily but with a shadow of his usual wry grin.

Inside the bedroom Tony's lavish decorating was once more obvious. The narrow bunk that the rank and file agents got by on had been replaced with a three-quarter bed in the Avengers rooms. Tony had replaced that with a reasonable sized double. It was probably stll smaller than he would have preferred but anything larger would have left absolutely no floor space in the small room.

Tony pulled back the neat covers on the bed, moving aside so that Steve could bring Clint over. "You can stay here tonight, I'll stay in the spare room, as much as you've had to drink I wouldn't trust you to find the door, let alone get all the way back to your own quarters." The words were light-hearted but Tony knew instantly he'd said something wrong, and then it hit him, trust, he'd said he wouldn't trust Clint. He hadn't meant it in a disparaging way but trust was a big issue for Clint right now and it was no wonder his words had struck a nerve. Silently he cursed the alcohol, it had been intended to loosen Clint's tongue, unfortunately it had loosened his own too.

Clint was pushing back the covers now, trying to extricate himself from the bed as Steve tried to keep him there without hurting him. "I'm sorry, I should never have stayed, of course you can't trust me, who could." Clint was getting quite frantic now and Steve shot a glance over his shoulder as he crouched by the bed begging Tony to make this right.

"We trust you, of course we trust you, I just meant that you've had a lot to drink, we all have and it would be a wonder if you could even see straight at the moment." Tony tried to calm Clint, not bull-shitting, the sharp-shooter would see through that in an instant, but trying to explain, hoping Clint would forgive him.

It seemed his words had got through, Clint stopped trying to push back the covers and just lay there, looking at them from wounded eyes. "You don't trust me though, ever since we got back to the ship someone has always been there, watching me, keeping an eye on me, scarcely letting me be alone for a single moment."

That confused Tony, he knew that Fury would have been keeping an eye on Clint, on all the returned agents who had been under Loki's control, but he would have expect Fury to be more covert than this. Was Clint imagining it, he was a super spy, paranoia kind of came with the territory, then he noticed Steve's reaction.

"It wasn't like that," Steve's voice was broken as he seemed to grope for the words to express what he wanted to say, "I trust you with my life, with the life of any member of the team except..." he paused and looked up from his examination of the carpet to meet Clint's eyes squarely. "I wasn't sure if I could trust you with your own."

After this confession Steve waited, he wanted to up and run from the room, to get away from Clint's searching gaze but he didn't, that would be the coward's way out and that was one thing he had never been.

Finally Clint seemed satisfied, he closed his eye and nestled down in the bed with a murmured, "Okay." Satisfied Tony stepped to the door, holding it for Steve to leave, but as the super soldier stood from his crouched position by the bed Clint spoke once more, "Stay with me, please?"

Tony wasn't even sure if the sharp-shooter was awake and he saw Steve hesitate before reaching the same conclusion and moving towards the door. Without really thinking about what he was doing Tony shifted his position so that instead of holding the door for Steve to pass through he was now blocking the way. "Stay with him," he urged, "he needs you."

Steve looked over Tony's shoulder, towards the door to the corridor and back to his own rooms, for a moment Tony expected to be pushed aside, but then Steve gave a small nod and moved around to the other side of the bed. All three men had shed their shoes earlier in the evening, relaxed by the alcohol they had consumed, so it was easy for him to simply flick back the cover on this side and slide in beside the sleeping marksman.

Tony closed the door, hiding a small, knowing smile until he was sure it wouldn't be detected. As the door clicked shut he concluded, "and I think you need him too!"

**A/N:** Thank you for reading, reviews always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

Authors Note: Thank you to Eloshazzy and Ukchana for your reviews, they are just what I need to help me polish the story. This is all written now but helpful reviews pointing out plot holes, logical inconsistencies, or just making assumptions that don't match what I intended to say help to point me to areas that need more work. Ukchana, your review added 400 words to the this chapter and I hope has helped to make this a better story.

Brothers in Arms - Chapter 4

Steve woke slowly revelling in the novelty of it. All his life, but even more so since the super soldier transformation, he'd only slept soundly when he felt completely safe. It was strange however what his brain defined as safe, in 1943 in a cave on a frozen mountainside in occupied France with his first team around him he had slept like a baby. Seventy years later in a city of 8 million he hadn't had had a single night of decent sleep since he first awoke in this time. At least not until now.

As he lay there, still luxuriating in the heavy sleepiness that retained its hold on his body and mind he knew that he wasn't alone and he wondered if he was still dreaming, he must be dreaming, he'd never shared a bed with anyone in his entire life. His arms constricted briefly, hugging the dream body to him. Slowly his brain began to take notice, cataloguing the person sleeping in his arms. Short hair tickled his bicep from the head resting upon it, soft breath warm on his forearm. Broad shoulders were pressed back against his chest and his other arm lay across narrow hips, his hand curled over well-defined abs, his legs pressed against strongly muscled thighs as they lay spooned together.

Slowly a thought began to niggle at the back of his mind, something was off about this dream. He'd dreamt before of nights with Peggy in his arms, soft, feminine, petite, dwarfed by his own massive frame. This was different and he found he relished the size and strength of the muscular form in his arms. Suddenly all sleepiness left him as he snapped fully awake, this was no dream, this was... A man.

Over years of bolting awake at the first sign of trouble he'd trained himself to remain motionless on waking so as not to alert possible enemies to his change of state. Now, suddenly awake and alert, every muscle tensed as he carefully opened one eyelid, just a sliver and took in his surroundings, the cramped space, the opulent furnishings, Stark's quarters, and there sleeping in his arms was Clint Barton. He remembered now, the worry of the previous day, Clint going missing, searching high and low for the wayward archer, finding him, filthy and tear streaked in the bowels of the mighty ship, then back to Stark's rooms where he learned that apparently he could still get at least tipsy given enough of a beverage brewed solely for the personal use of the King of the ancient Gods of Asgard.

Steve opened his eyes and tried to relax, neither Clint nor Tony had seen anything unusual in Clint asking him to stay the night before. It must be just another thing to get used to in this modern world he found himself in. But he couldn't help wondering, after all he'd seen no other sign that two men sharing a bed was the norm and both Clint and Tony had been pretty drunk the night before. What's more neither one was exactly the poster boy for normal even in the best of circumstances.

Slowly he started to straighten his legs, attempting to disengage their bodies without waking the sleeping archer. That was when he realised his mistake, he'd forgotten that Clint was also a master spy. He'd thought the smaller man was asleep but as soon as he tried to move a subtle change in the feel of the body in his arms alerted him to the fact that Clint was in fact wide awake, and may have been for some time.

With Steve's legs no longer spooned up behind his own it was easy for Clint to turn in the loose hold of the arms encircling him and moments later he settled into position facing Steve. With a tentative smile he offered a sleepy "Hi."

"Hi," Steve replied, he wanted to say more but the movements of Clint's body against his as the other man turned had alerted him to a serious problem. Where the archer now lay his slightly bent legs rested just inches away from the burning erection currently straining the stitching of the black jeans that Steve still wore from the night before.

"Thank you," Clint murmured, and at the puzzled silence that followed he clarified, "for staying last night."

"No problem" Steve struggled slightly to keep his voice even, it was showing an alarming inclination to rise in pitch as the sleepy archer shifted his position slightly. The other man was so close now that Steve was surprised Clint couldn't feel the intense heat radiating from his groin.

Taking a deep breath and bringing his knees up a little to try to create some space Steve tried again, "Look, I know one night of drunken confidences isn't going to put everything back to the way it was before," he paused, "But if you need to talk then we're all here for you, we all want to help." He thought for a moment, "of course I'd probably steer clear of Tony or Thor for anything deep and meaningful, but Banner seems to be a good man and I know you and Tasha are close."

"Yeah Banner's a cool guy and me and Tasha, we're close, but I'm not sure I could talk to her about this, she's had her own shit to deal with, ya' know?"

"But surely you and she..." Steve broke off uncertain how to continue.

Clint just frowned, "she and I," he paused "what?"

"Well I just thought you and Tasha were together." Steve finished in a rush.

Clint stared in surprise, "Me and Tasha," he gave a little laugh but stopped abruptly when he felt Steve starting to pull back, "sorry, I didn't mean too..."

At the apology Steve hesitated for a moment before settling back into his previous position with Clint held loosely in the circle of his arms. He hated to hear Clint sounding so tentative, so uncertain, it wasn't natural, he'd read countless mission reports from the SHEILD archives and one thing Clint always was, was certain. He might be right, he might be wrong, but whatever choice he made he committed to it one hundred percent.

Feeling Steve settle back into place Clint continued to talk "we were together for a while, but that was over a long time ago. We just, we found that we were better friends than lovers. We knew too much of each other's past. She knows every skeleton in my closet, and I know all of hers." Clint searched the dark, wishing he could see Steve's face, see if Steve understood.

Although Steve couldn't see Clint any better than Clint could see him in the dark windowless room he knew that Clint needed something from him. He wasn't sure he did know exactly what Clint meant but he thought he understood how hard it could be to be in a relationship where both parties knew all the other's dirty secrets. It could either make everything so easy, or make it so impossibly hard. Apparently for Clint and Tasha it had been the latter so he nodded slightly and Clint seemed satisfied with that. "She's still my best friend, she's like my big sister and there are some things you just can't tell your sister, no matter how much you love her, how much you know she'd understand. You just... don't!"

"Of course, but there's still Bruce and," Steve took a breath, hating to bring the man's name up, "Fury will have people who you could talk to."

"And, if I wanted to talk to you?" Clint asked the question shyly.

Something unfamiliar swelled within Steve at the vulnerability revealed by the question and without thinking his arms tightened, drawing the younger man close and he dropped a chaste kiss on the top of Clint's head.

Suddenly Steve realised what he had done, panic overtook him and planting his free hand on Clint's shoulder he pushed backwards, scrambling away he practically fell off the edge of the bed. He leapt to his feet, apologies dripping from his lips, "Sorry, that was... Sorry, I have to...Sorry" he reached for the door handle and yanking it open fled from the room. In the outer room Tony was just pulling on a clean t-shirt as Steve pushed past him heading for the door. Tony only had time to notice the blush flaming Steve's cheeks and the other man was gone with only a "Sorry, gotta go!" thrown over his shoulder as he left.

With a wry chuckle Tony headed for the bedroom to see what had had the super soldier running for the hills. Popping his head through the doorway he saw Clint sitting up in the bed looking a little shell-shocked.

"What was that?" Tony asked with a soft laugh, "you didn't try and make out with Mr Repressed on the first date did you?"

"No, nothing like that" Clint answered before he realised that Tony was joking, "Fuck you Tony! Some of us don't need to jump everything that moves, we can stick with those who are actually interested in us!" Scrubbing his hands through his, already messy, hair, Clint swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there with his head in his hands.

"You don't think Steve's interested in you?" Tony just stood in the doorway, wondering whether Clint would actually talk to him, at least the archer was showing signs of life, he hadn't sworn at anyone in days.

"We were just talking," his voice was quiet, muffled, Clint hadn't raised his head so the words were directed downwards into his lap and Tony had to strain to hear them.

Stepping forward Tony sat down beside Clint on the bed, "I don't know what you two were talking about but he was undoubtedly 'interested'." His inference was clear causing Clint to direct a quizzical glance sideways at the playboy billionaire whose one-track mind was definitely showing.

"Surely you saw the impressive tent in his jeans as he scrammed out of here, either he'd pocketed Mjolnir or he was very pleased to see someone," Tony paused for dramatic effect, "and it wasn't me" he said, ruefully rubbing his shoulder where the super soldier had pushed by him.

Actually Clint hadn't seen anything of the sort, there were no windows in the crew quarters of the Helicarrier and they hadn't turned the light on so even now the only light in the room was that which streamed through the open doorway. Clint could feel hope bubbling up in his chest, he wanted to believe Tony, he truly did but how could he, "Everyone throws morning wood from time to time Tony, you of all people must know that." he threw back.

"Hey, it's up to you, believe me, don't believe me but he spent 7 hours yesterday scouring this ship looking for you, he makes sure to drag you to the mess hall and feed you at least once a day and he's been known to drag the Widow away from whatever she's doing and have her put you to bed so that you get at least some sleep. Now something is clearly bothering him, don't you think you have a duty to see if you can help, even if it is only as a friend!" Tony finished his rant wondering just where all of that had come from, after all it was none of his business whether Clint and Steve got together or not, he wasn't running a match-making service here.

Clint just stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, "Are you feeling alright?" he asked reaching out to lay a hand on the billionaire's forehead but Tony swatted him away.

"Hey, hands off. I'm not the one just sat here whilst the star spangled dreamboat runs off who knows where."

"Star span..." Clint glared at Tony, "What's gotten into you? Why are you so sure either one of us is gay, and even if we were what makes you think I'd be into Steve or he'd be into me?"

"Oh come on Clint, quite apart from the uniform, I mean come on, 'the star spangled man with a plan', whose bright idea was that. Sorry, beside the point, the point is, you asked him to stay last night and he hopped into bed with barely a second thought!"

"So?"

"Well, if it had been me, or pretty much anyone else on the team we'd probably have taken the chair!" and Tony pointed to the comfortable armchair next to the head of the bed, the only other piece of furniture in the room.

The way Clint stared at the chair you'd have thought it was about to bite him, "Oh," was all he could manage.

"Yes, Oh!" Tony laughed, "it's no big deal, if I wasn't with Pepper I'd happily take a run at either one of you." he admitted cheerfully. "So, are you going to tell me what happened to send Steve running out of here this morning?"

"It was nothing, we were talking and then, Steve kissed me," Clint ran a hand over the spot, a slightly dopey expression coming over his face as he remembered the feel of it.

"He kissed you!" Tony's surprise was obvious.

"On the top of the head, it was nothing." Clint reiterated.

"It didn't look like nothing from the way he lit out of here." Tony stared out of the door after the super soldier, "you do realise that back when he got frozen homosexuality was still a crime, if they weren't trying to lock homosexuals up they were trying to cure them. I think you need to find Steve and have a serious talk with him, he's probably freaking out right about now!"

"Shit!" Clint stood, suddenly full of purpose, "sorry, gotta go" unconsciously imitating the words that Steve had used earlier he left the room breaking into a run as soon as he hit the corridor outside Tony's quarters.

As Steve left Tony's rooms he had headed automatically for his own quarters. Before he got there however he realised that if Clint were to come looking for him then that would probably be the first place he'd look. Slowing his pace he continued walking down the, thankfully empty, corridor. He had to get away from the well-travelled areas, he didn't know what time it was, probably quite early judging by the lack of people but that would change and he needed to get a certain problem dealt with before then.

He tried to think of anything that might help cool his ardour but every image he conjured up, Clint managed to finagle his way into it. He imagined standing under a cold shower, but Clint appeared beside him, naked and wet with the spray glistening on his hair and eyelashes. He thought back to the beatings he had taken in the back streets of Brooklyn, before the super soldier transformation, but Clint was there with his bow to defend him. He let that one play for a moment or two hoping that the indignity of having to be protected would fix the problem but he simply ended up focusing on the way the muscles of the archer's arm flexed as he wielded his chosen weapon so that didn't help.

Paying attention to his surroundings once again Steve realised that his steps had brought him unconsciously to the gym. It was natural enough, when not helping with the repairs or mother-henning his team he often spent time down here with the punching bag or sparring if he could get a partner. Bypassing the gym itself he headed straight to the locker rooms, breathing a sigh of relief when his luck held out and he made it there unseen.

Grabbing a towel from the pile by the door he held it strategically in front of himself feeling a little less self-conscious with that protection in place. Making his way back towards the showers he passed two damp SHIELD agents who had obviously just finished showering and dressing after an early morning workout. His stomach flip-flopped sickeningly as he realised that if he had gotten there just seconds later he would probably have met the two on their way out as he was coming in, before he had had a chance to pick up the flimsy protection of the towel. He swallowed convulsively as he nodded a greeting to the two men, finally passing into the relative safety of the shower room.

Finding the place empty he quickly stripped down folding his clothes neatly on the bench seat as he did so and keeping alert for the sounds of anyone approaching. Finally naked he hurried into one of the shower stalls pulling the curtain closed behind him. Turning on the water he gave the temperature control a vicious twist to the right, setting the flow to icy cold.

Standing there he hung his head and allowed the freezing water to flow across his shoulders and down his back. Staring down at the white shower tray he concentrated on the feeling of the needle sharp spray across his back and the sight of the water streaming down the drain. Every time Clint's face tried to intrude on his vision he rearranged the features into the expression of scorn or disgust that he felt sure the archer would have been wearing had he had the nerve to look back over his shoulder as he had fled that morning.

Eventually the combination of the cold water and of fiercely controlling his thoughts worked and he was able to turn off the flow and step out, shivering but blissfully flaccid at last.

Towelling himself down roughly he thought about where he could spend the day. He refused to consider it hiding, he just needed to keep out of the way for a little while. Once dry he briskly pulled his clothes from last night back on and throwing the used towel in the hamper supplied he headed out, nodding to the two SHIELD agents he passed in the doorway.

The two agents had just finished a fairly gruelling workout and they were both looking forward to a hot shower before the start of their bridge shift. Seeing wet foot-prints leading out of one of the stalls the younger man quickly turned that shower on. He might be a SHIELD agent, tasked with keeping the world safe for the masses below who often had no idea of the dangers out there, but that didn't mean he was immune to a little hero worship, especially when faced with a genuine super-hero. He quickly stripped down and then leapt into the stall recently vacated by Captain America, straight under the stream of water only to leap out again with a howl as the freezing cold spray hit his exercise warmed skin.

"What the hell!" he shouted and peering in he saw that the temperature was turned right down. Reaching gingerly past the icy water he swiftly jerked the dial up to maximum and pulled back. It was only then he turned to see his friend laughing at him, "What!" he demanded angrily.

"These super hero types, the cold showers help maintain muscle definition" the other agent barely managed to retain a straight face whilst he fed the line to his star-struck and rather gullible partner. 'Let's see how long it takes him to figure out that's bullshit he thought to himself.

Steve left the locker room and headed down to one of the gaping holes in the hull of the helicarrier where he was sure to encounter one of the work crews. There were safer places needing repair but unfortunately the attackers had known their target well and so the largest holes marked attacks on many of the vital systems which needed urgent attention. Steve tended not to join a regular crew as he never knew how much time he would be able to devote to the repair effort before being dragged away on Avengers business. Instead he roamed around helping out where he could and that was his plan for today. He hoped that by spending as little time in one place as possible he could keep out of Clint's way.

Steve never had learned much in the way of DIY skills, the work of the plumber, electrician, carpenter or builder's mate was a mystery to him. Before the transformation he'd been too puny for anyone to consider it worth trying to teach him and after he'd been busy with other things. So he wasn't much help with the skilled labour needed to repair the flying marvel that was the helicarrier, but when it came to brute force he had few equals and his natural humility saw no shame in performing the grunt work if that enabled the skilled workers to perform their tasks quicker. His morning flew past in an endless stream of holding panels in place here, ripping off damaged plating there, forcing fused nuts and bolts and generally putting his muscle to good use.

AN: Well there it is, please review [is there a begging smiley?]


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note : Thanks again to ELOSHAZZY and Ukchana for your reviews. Especially Ukchana for that mega review, it's great when I've spent nine months working on a story to know that someone cares enough to offer well thought out feedback and I can't thank you enough, it truly makes the work of writing and posting worthwhile. As to your comments, I'm not sure about nebulous but I do try for realism, of course not being a male, homosexual superhero I'm not sure how well I succeed :-)

Brothers in Arms - Chapter 4b

Clint's morning in contrast had been one of complete frustration. He'd checked out Steve's room first, knowing it was probably too obvious a place for Steve to have gone, well he'd been right, Steve wasn't there and from the looks of the room he hadn't been since the previous evening. After that he went to track down the work crew supervisor to see if Steve might be hiding in plain sight on one of the repair teams.

"Hey, Kenny" he called out, spotting the man he needed knelt down in front of an open electrical panel tracing the wiring with another man.

"One minute," Kenny didn't even turn his head as he issued the instruction, simply continuing his discussion.

As Clint waited he realised that the man working with Kenny was Joe Morena, the engineer who had fallen yesterday. He was a little surprised to see the man back at work so soon and he supposed that he would be working as far away from the gaping holes in the hull as possible for a few days.

A few minutes later Kenny clapped his companion on the shoulder, "You good here?" he asked, waiting for the affirmative reply before standing and brushing off the dust from the knees of his jeans.

"Sorry about that, what can I do for you?" Kenny asked over his shoulder as he continued to watch Joe work for a moment to be sure the problem they'd been discussing really was resolved.

Turning he finally saw who he was talking to "Clint, sorry didn't realise it was you. You're just the man I needed to see, after Joe's little stunt yesterday my guys are a touch wary and we finally got the parts in to repair the big antenna array up top. Any chance you could take a look at it for me?" he asked hopefully, "you know how Fury has been on my ass about getting the sensors back up and running."

Clint hated to disappoint the man, but today he had other things on his mind "Sorry Kenny, I've got a lot on this morning, I might be able to come back later and help once I've got some stuff sorted, OK?"

Kenny just nodded acceptance of the offer, "sure man, whatever you can do."

"How is Joe?" Clint asked watching the man in question, "I didn't expect to see him working today."

"He's fine, a little shaken up but we need his skills too badly at the moment." Raising his voice so Joe could hear he added, "besides, we're keeping him well away from anything he could possibly fall off of. Right Joe?" and he nudged him gently with the toe of his boot.

"Bite me Ken" was his only response and Kenny laughed as he steered Clint away to somewhere a little quieter so they could talk.

"So, if you're not here to fix my resourcing issues, what are you here for?" he asked good naturedly.

"Actually I was wondering if you'd seen Steve around today?" Clint asked guardedly.

"Steve Rogers? No I haven't seen him. He never sticks with one team, he's more one for flitting in and out, helping where needed."

Clint smirked at the notion of Captain America 'flitting' anywhere. Then he scowled, this was going to be harder than he had thought. "Right, I'd better get going then. If I get this sorted then I'll be back to help out with that antenna thing OK?"

"OK, thanks" and with barely a wave Kenny was off to see what other issues needed his attention this morning. One thing you had to say about this job, it was never boring.

Clint took off on what would turn out to be one of the most frustrating mornings of his life. He roamed through the great hull of the helicarrier, keeping to the areas with the most damage. Some places the crews hadn't seen Steve in days, others had seen him earlier that morning but he had moved on before Clint had gotten there. However in an unnaturally large number of cases he was told 'Yes' and Steve's location was pointed out to him only to find that when he reached the indicated spot Steve had just left. It would be enough to give any man less driven the idea that his quarry was actively avoiding him. But Clint _was_ a driven man, and if his confidence flagged then he had Tony's words from that morning to spur him on. And if that wasn't enough he only had to close his eyes for a moment to relive the feel of Steve's strong arms holding him close and the gentle press of a single kiss to the top of his head.

Eventually Clint had an idea, he was fed up of chasing an elusive Captain America around but perhaps he could persuade Steve to come to him. Abandoning the chase he went back to speak to Kenny again.

"Hey Clint, you come back to sort the antenna out for me?" Kenny called from his position over-seeing a couple of his men who were removing a damaged panel covering some especially sensitive components.

"No, sorry, but I might have an idea about that for you." Clint offered, beckoning for Kenny to move a little away from listening ears so that they could speak in private.

Checking that his men had their task well in hand Kenny followed him with a sly smirk, "still not found Steve huh?"

Finding a relatively quiet corner Clint spoke, keeping his voice as low as possible whilst still being heard. "No, but I was wondering, do you have a way of contacting him if you need his help for a specific job?"

"Not really, I just send word out to the crews that I need to see him and he generally turns up pretty quick. Why, what are you thinking?" Kenny explained.

"This antenna repair, is it something Steve could do?" From the look on Clint's face there was a lot riding on the answer to his question.

"Hmm," Kenny thought carefully about it for a moment, "it's not really something I'd ask him to do alone, he'd be a great help with the donkey work, clearing the wreckage and getting the new parts into place but wiring them up, that's another matter entirely!"

Clint looked disappointed at first, if this wasn't the type of job Steve would normally be asked to assist with then the astute leader of the Avengers was likely to smell a rat, still, it looked like his only chance of running the man to earth any time soon, he'd take his chances.

"Could you send word for him, ask him to do the prep work for the repair?" Seeing Kenny looking doubtful he added beseechingly, "please."

"Look, what's all this about? I get the strong feeling it isn't official business or you'd just call him on comms instead of spending an entire morning playing hide and seek with the man throughout the entire ship" Kenny asked bluntly. He liked Clint, the archer had been a major help in pushing the repairs forward, but he didn't want to get involved in the internal squabbles amongst the Avengers. Pissing off the super soldier seemed like a bad idea from where he was standing.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I shouldn't involve you in all this, something happened this morning and I just need to speak to him about it. I promise my intentions are..." he stopped, he'd been going to say honourable but he realised that that might not be entirely true, "good." he finally finished. "Kenny please, look the antenna array you want repaired is the big one, right in front of the main bridge right?"

Kenny just nodded confirmation.

"Look, honestly, I'm not going to enact some nefarious plot with the entire bridge crew watching. Please I just need to speak to him." Clint was trying hard not to beg but he wasn't sure he was succeeding.

"Alright, I'll send out word for him, and _if _he replies then I'll ask him to start work on clearing the wreckage and installing the new antenna rods, you're on your own from there!"

"Thank you, there's just one more thing..." Clint tailed off, looking a little sheepish.

"Go on," Kenny encouraged in a resigned tone.

"If I go and hide out in my quarters, can you call me when he's at the antenna array." Kenny was looking doubtful again and Clint rushed on, "he's seemed to have a sixth sense as to where I was all morning, every time I got near him he'd disappear. Please, I'll owe you big time!"

"OK fine, get out of here, I'll call you when he's at the antenna array"

"Thanks man," and Clint hurried off whilst Kenny started radioing his repair crews asking them to pass the word that he needed to see Steve Rogers about an urgent repair.

When Steve first heard that Kenny needed to see him he was in two minds about whether or not to respond. He hadn't seen any sign of Clint chasing him for a little while and had been hoping that the archer had given up. When the message reached him he immediately assumed it was some kind of a trap. However once he'd heard the same thing from three different work crews, and picked up a few more details, including the fact that the parts had finally come in for the antenna repair he began to wonder if it was a trap or not. He knew that Fury was anxious to get the sensors back up and running. Maybe Clint really had given up. So when a fourth work crew passed on the message about the repair he finished up the task he was helping them with and went to find Kenny.

By the time he finally tracked the man down it was over an hour since he had first passed word and Kenny had just about given up on him so it was with unfeigned relief that the work boss greeted his arrival. "Steve, I'm so glad to see you. Can you help us out with this antenna repair, none of my lads will touch it after Joe's little swan dive yesterday".

"Hi Kenny, I'll be happy to help in any way I can but I'm not sure I'm really the man for this job. You know I don't do well with electronics." Steve replied looking around carefully for any sign of Clint lying in wait for him.

"I appreciate the help Steve, I truly do, and I don't need you to do any of the wiring or anything like that, the mangled remains of the old antenna array is still up there, I need someone to clear that away and to fix the new rods into place. Once my guys see that it's safe to work up there I'm hopeful that I can get one of them up there to complete the re-wiring." Kenny explained. "You know how Fury has been all over my ass to get this repair done, we're flying blind at the moment and he's not a happy camper."

"OK, show me the new parts, let's get on with this," and Steve gestured for Kenny to lead the way.

Kenny led him to a heavy metal door which opened onto the main flight deck on the top side of the helicarrier. Going through the door he pointed out the neat pile of new rods and spars for the antenna array and handed over the laminated plans to show how everything should fit together. It was windy out on the flight deck and the air was thin but they were flying at a lower altitude than normal due to the damage they had sustained so it was breathable, especially with the increased lung capacity conferred on Steve by the super soldier serum.

Deciding to leave the new parts where they were until he'd cleared the damaged rods away he secured the instructions under one of the heavier bundles and donning a tool belt he started climbing the antenna mast. He quickly reached the small platform at the base of the array proper where he set to work.

Clint had gone straight to his quarters after leaving Kenny, not wanting to risk Steve seeing him there and recognising the trap he'd set for what it was. However now he was stuck in his room with nothing to do but to wonder whether this was going to work and to try to decide what he was going to say if he was able to talk to Steve.

At first he tried to distract himself by tidying his rooms, unfortunately he'd always lived a fairly nomadic existence and so he didn't have that much stuff. Even after he'd neglected his surroundings over the past week as he tried to work himself into an early grave to atone for the crimes he'd committed whilst under Loki's thrall, it still didn't take much tidying and he was soon done.

Next he tried to read the briefing packets that had been delivered to him for ongoing missions which might require his and Natasha's particular skill sets. However after he'd read the same page four times and taken in precisely nothing he realised that he really wasn't getting anywhere and put the paperwork aside. Instead he started working through the conversation that he expected to have with Steve in his head.

He wasn't practicing the conversation he told himself, just trying to organise his thoughts so that he wouldn't sound like a complete imbecile when he got to talk to Steve. Unfortunately no matter how he tried to explain that everything was fine, that the events of the morning didn't have to mean anything if Steve didn't want them to, that he was fine just being friends, that Steve's friendship was important to him and he didn't want to lose it, but that society's opinions had changed in the last seventy years and if Steve did want to pursue something more than that would be fine too. Whatever he said and however he tried to explain things imaginary Steve wasn't co-operating, still mired in the cultural biases of seventy years ago.

Dropping his head miserably into his hands he decided that this whole thing had been a really bad idea. He was just about to call Kenny and tell him to forget everything and that he would be right down to start on the antenna repair when he was interrupted by an incoming call. "Hey Barton, it's Kenny, he's up on the antenna array now. Maybe after you've finished your conversation you could give him a hand to get the repairs done." It was couched as a suggestion but Clint recognised the force behind the words, acknowledging with a simple "Thanks Kenny" he cut the connection and headed topside, Showtime!

Stepping through the door Clint looked around, quickly spotting Steve working at clearing the wreckage fifty feet above the deck. He was still wearing the black jeans and sky-blue t-shirt from the night before although both were now liberally streaked with muck and dirt from the work he'd been doing throughout the day. Even so he looked good to Clint's eyes and the archer took a moment to appreciate the view before walking over and starting the climb up the antenna mast.

Steve was engrossed in his work, wrestling the mangled parts free and lashing them into a bundle hanging from the edge of the platform ready to be lowered to the deck later. He was so engrossed he didn't notice the figure climbing the ladder up to his position until Clint climbed through the hole in the floor and stepped clear facing him.

"Hi Steve"

The piece of tangled metal that Steve had just pulled free of the mess around them fell from nerveless fingers as he spun round to stare at the man who had appeared on the platform behind him. The fallen debris skidded over the edge, bouncing off the hanging bundle of twisted parts before clattering to the deck far below them.

As Steve watched the piece fall he wondered briefly if he could follow it, he could take much more punishment than the average human these days, he could probably survive a drop of fifty feet. Then he realised just how stupid he was being. Clint had spent all day tracking him down, even if he did escape now Clint would only track him down again, better to take his lumps like a man. And that was only if Clint really was angry, he'd had a lot of time to think today whilst helping out with the brute force tasks that were required of him.

Clint hadn't pulled back that morning, he hadn't looked angry in the brief glance that Steve had spared him as he mumbled his apologies and ran from the room. The various people during the day who had mentioned that Clint was looking for him hadn't given him the impression that Clint was ready to tear him a new one. In fact they'd seemed incredibly casual about it. He'd started to realise that maybe he'd been attributing forties moral values to 21st Century man.

So why was he still staring at a piece of twisted metal down on the flight deck instead of looking at the man who had gone to such lengths to find him. Straightening he took a deep breath and turned to face Clint who was stood squarely between him and the access to the ladder leading down the mast. Then Clint took two steps back, leaving the route back to the deck clear. "I just want to talk, but if you don't feel we have anything to say to each other then there's the way down, I won't stop you." and Clint took another step back hands held up in a gesture almost of surrender. After spending all day chasing him about the ship would Clint really just let him leave if that was what he wanted?

Carefully he searched Clint's face, trying to divine the truth of the man's intentions and he realised he'd never seen the man look so open. Everything was there, laid out in his expression for anyone who knew how to read him and Steve felt a churning in his midriff as he finally recognised just how much he wanted to be the man who knew Clint that well. The person who understood every nuance of his facial expression, his body language, his word choice and then the tension that had gripped him fled as he knew that he wasn't going anywhere. They needed to talk.

Clint saw the instant that Steve decided to stay and the relief that he felt took his breath away for a moment. Now that they were finally going to talk , the aura of calm that he had been doing his best to project crumbled and all the nervous energy that had built up as he waited in his room for Kenny to call showed itself. Taking a deep breath he started to talk, "I'm sorry... about this morning, if something I said or did freaked you out I'm sorry. It's just that I... kinda' _like_ you, and I'd never have said or done anything about it, but I might've still been a little bit drunk, and then after you left Tony said that he thought you might... kinda' _like_ me too. It doesn't matter if you don't, I completely understand and I'll never bother you about it again but I just needed to make sure you were OK because Tony mentioned the way that they had some really strange ideas in your day... about two men together, so I needed to check and make sure that omph!"

At first Steve had listened to the wall of words with some amusement, however when the spate showed no sign of abating and it looked like Clint was more likely to talk himself out of anything rather than talking Steve _into _anything he decided he needed to intervene. The only trouble was that Clint had worked himself up into such a state that every time Steve tried to get a word in Clint steam-rollered right over the top of him. Eventually he decided the only way to shut the other man up was the old-fashioned way and stepping in he laid his hands on the other man's hips pulling his body in close and brought their lips together in a messy kiss.

It was all teeth and tongues for a moment as he felt Clint's mouth moving beneath his as the archer continued to try to talk but Clint quickly got with the program, insinuating his arms inside the taller man's and wrapping them around Steve's waist. Flicking out his tongue he lapped at the warm lips moving on his. He exulted internally as they parted for him and he was able to deepen the kiss. Steve's innocence was obvious in his tentativeness but under Clint's tender ministrations he quickly gained in confidence and soft moans were soon coming from both men. But eventually Clint needed to breathe and with great regret he loosed his hold and pulled back slightly ending the kiss and bringing his forehead to rest against the juncture of Steve's neck and shoulder.

"Are you OK?" a warm voice asked next to his ear and Clint tightened his arms briefly before murmuring, "I'm very OK."

Soft breath tickled his ear as Steve chuckled then large hands ran up his arms and settled on his shoulders, pushing him back a little so that Steve could look into his eyes.

"Listen, I know that society these days is much more progressive and homosexuality is no longer a crime." Steve paused, wanting to be sure that Clint understood the seriousness of what he was saying, "but I also know that some people still think that two men together is unnatural, especially in the military, so if you want to keep this quiet then I totally understand."

Clint started to laugh, but then he saw that Steve was serious, "Um, sorry Steve, but I think it's a bit late for that." and he looked pointedly to one side.

Steve followed his gaze to find himself staring in the massive windows of the flying bridge of the helicarrier. Windows lined with faces as most of the SHIELD agents on duty stared out at the two men embracing on the antenna mast. As Steve watched the officer in charge started calling the crew to order and back to their posts and the faces cleared from the window.

Steve groaned, how could he have forgotten exactly where the antenna array was situated, he'd been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't really registered his surroundings, and once Clint arrived his attention had been entirely focussed on the other man.

Now it was Clint's turn to be concerned, "I'm sorry, is that going to be a problem for you?" he asked nodding towards the, now empty, bridge windows.

Shaking his head a little Steve smiled ruefully, "No, no problem," and leaning in he kissed Clint again, breaking off after a few seconds. "So, are you going to help me get these repairs finished?" he asked.

"The repairs," Clint whined, "but I thought maybe we could go find somewhere a little more private." and he smiled suggestively.

"Of course we can," Clint smiled in triumph, only for his face to fall a moment later when Steve concluded with, "as soon as the work is finished!"

"You're really going to make me get the new antennas in place before we can take this any further aren't you?" Clint asked in disbelief.

"No, you don't have to do anything. I promised Kenny I would get this done not you." Gently Steve disengaged himself from Clint's embrace, and started work on freeing the next piece of debris from the mangled array, "Of course, I'll be finished much sooner with your help," he threw over his shoulder as he got back to work.

Clint knew when he was beaten and looking around at the charred and twisted wreckage he selected a piece and got to work.

A/N : As always, I hope you enjoyed, please review.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Thank you Ukchana for your fantastic review, a lot of useful points there that I will consider going forward. Other than that though the reception for this story has been disappointing, so as I'm feeling rather unmotivated I've dispensed with the normal final read through that I'd do and I'm just slinging this up to get it over with, apologies for the remaining mistakes that may well still exist.

Brothers in Arms 5

Loki's men had really done a number on the antenna array, it had taken at least one, maybe more direct RPG hits, all to the business end. The platform and the mast below it were untouched but anything above that was a mass of twisted, broken metal, charred and soot streaked from the brief fire that had raged up there.

Even working together it had taken Clint and Steve over two hours just to get the wreckage cleared. Of course it might have gone a little faster if they hadn't spent a fair proportion of their time each distracted by the other.

Finally though the mast stood clear and bare. Filthy but happy Clint turned to Steve, "Right, we're done!" he announced.

"We are," Steve agreed with a grin, "so, you lower this lot to the deck, I'll go and get the replacement parts and we can make a start on getting this all put back together."

Clint had conveniently 'forgotten' about the need to install the new parts and he'd been hoping that Steve would 'forget' too, of course he should have known better.

"Killjoy!" he muttered under his breath as Steve disappeared through the hole and down the ladder back to the deck.

"I heard that," Steve's reply floated back up to him, followed by an amused laugh.

"You were meant to!" he hollered down before moving over to the small winch that currently supported the large bundle of debris that they had removed.

This mast normally housed satellite dishes as well as the massive variety of antenna's that they were about to replace. Those had been removed as soon as the repair efforts had begun. Even hanging by a thread, as some of the dishes had been, no-one was particularly worried about Health and Safety concerns. Few people would be wandering around the deck whilst they were at altitude. But if even one of the great dishes were to fall the additional damage it could cause would be extensive. A team working from a helicopter had hooked them and dragged them away, leaving the rest of the wreckage to be cleared by hand later.

It was going to be a hell of a job getting those dishes replaced and they wouldn't have full communications or sensor capability until it was done. But at least with the work they were doing today they would have some sensors back and thankfully they had never lost communications entirely, otherwise they would never have known about the inbound nuke until it was too late.

Musing on that day brought a lot of uncomfortable memories to the fore for Clint and he shook his head as if to clear those thoughts away. It was something that he was finally beginning to realise that he would have to deal with, but not today, instead he concentrated on watching the bundle of debris as he lowered it to the deck. Once it was down it didn't take Steve long to unhook it and replace it with the neat stack of replacement rods. He saw Steve give the thumbs up and throwing the winch into reverse started hauling everything up to where they were working.

Steve watched the heavy load begin to rise, making sure that all was secure and nothing would slip free. As soon as he was happy that there were no problems he started climbing back up, keeping pace with the winch as he went.

Once it reached the top Clint locked off the winch and the two men worked together to manhandle the new parts over the safety rail and onto the small platform they were working from. Looking at the mass of spars, rods and some strangely shaped pieces of metal as well as the large bag of assorted nuts and bolts Clint bit his lower lip thoughtfully. "I hope the instructions for all this are real clear."

"The instructions!" Steve exclaimed looking dolefully down to the spot where the pieces had been stacked awaiting installation.

Clint just looked from the Super Soldier to the deck and back again, "really! you forgot the instructions!" he asked incredulously.

Steve just shrugged, "I'm sorry," he offered.

"OK, look, you start sorting through this lot, I'll go down and get them," and Clint started on the trip back down to the deck.

Just as his head was about to disappear below the level of their platform Steve called his name in a sing-song voice, "Cli-int." Looking up the archer saw him waving several laminated sheets, still curved from being folded lengthways and, presumably stuffed into Steve's back pocket.

Closing his eyes he allowed his head to drop forward, clunking against the rung of the ladder in front of him, "Oh, my, God! Captain America has a sense of humour, who knew?" and climbing back up he stalked over to stand directly in front of the taller man. "You do know that payback's a bitch? Right?"

Steve just quirked an eyebrow, a slight smile lifting the corners of those chiselled lips and Clint couldn't resist, he had to reach up and lay a quick kiss on them before snatching the sheets from Steve's hand and starting to look through them.

The first couple of pages were a catalogue of all the parts they were supposed to have, looking from the neat pictures to the mass of metal at their feet he shook his head, "I hope you have plenty of that rope left."

Steve patted his tool belt, "no problem, it's the latest in Stark Tech, practically unbreakable high tensile cable, thinner and stronger than anything on the market but you can cut straight through it with the right tool."

"Cool," then a thought struck him, "hey, why didn't I get any of that?"

"Didn't you collect your new belt from Tony? You should have all the latest tools, I'm sure you were copied in on the same memo I got about it."

"Well, I may not have been keeping up with my mail these last few days," Clint just shrugged it off, he was beginning to realise just how much he had let slide this last week, he needed to start getting back on top of things. "Right let's get started, I'll go through this and work out what we have, you secure the sorted parts to the platform rail so we've got some room to work.

Working together they soon had everything sorted out and were able to start bolting the new cross-spars in place to build the foundation of the new array. Once that was stable they were able to begin attaching the actual antennae into place. Starting at the outermost edges of the top spar they worked as a team, Steve held the new piece in place and Clint attached it with the appropriate fixing from the large bag supplied. Soon they fell into the rhythm of the work, losing track of time as they worked comfortably together.

By the time they had finished night had fallen and in the dim glow of the lights from the bridge windows behind them they surveyed the completed array with some satisfaction. Turning to Steve Clint eyed the bigger man with his hands on his hips, "OK, happy now? Can we go and find somewhere a little more private?" he asked with a seductive smile on his lips.

"Of course," Steve replied, "just as soon as we've found Kenny and let him know that we're done."

Pulling out his radio Clint thumbed the mike, "Hi comms, can you pass word to Kenny on the work crews that his antenna array is installed, he just needs to get one of his guys up here tomorrow morning to get it wired up and it's ready to go."

"Roger that!" came the slightly tinny reply and Clint put the radio away with an exaggerated gesture, "anything else?"

Clint was starting to feel uncertain about this. Everything had looked so easy earlier when Steve had kissed him, but since then it seemed that Steve had been making excuse after excuse not to be alone with him. Unable to say what he needed to whilst looking at Steve he instead looked up at the array again, "Look, if you're having second thoughts about this then I understand. I'm not going to push you into anything you're not ready for."

Gathering all his courage he turned to face the other man only Steve wasn't there, he spun around as if Steve could be hiding somewhere on a bare platform no larger than five foot square. Then he looked down through the access hole and saw Steve already half way to the deck. His heart fell, was Steve leaving? Then Steve stopped and looked up. "Well, come on then, my quarters I'll race you!" and he was moving downwards again, even faster than before.

Clint stood in shock for a moment, then his heart leapt in his chest, it was alright, Steve hadn't heard a word he'd said, but that was OK. He wasn't having second thoughts, he was just an honourable man doing his duty and only now that that duty was done would he give time to his own personal needs and desires. Steve had almost reached the deck now and Clint suddenly jerked out of his frozen state, practically leaping through the access hole and flying down the ladder.

By the time Clint reached the deck, even jumping down the last eight feet, Steve was already through the door and out of sight. Still the archer wasn't worried, he was more familiar with the layout of the helicarrier, he had spent more time on board before the incident with Loki, and since then he had spent a lot of time in maintenance shafts and the like so that he knew many shortcuts around the shop.

Dashing across the deck he yanked the door open and careened through the opening, only to be brought up short as he practically ran into the tall, black-clad figure of Nick Fury. "Hawkeye," the curt greeting all he had come to expect from the leader of SHIELD.

"Sir," he replied, slightly breathless from the run across the deck.

"I've just come from a shift on the bridge." Fury's inference was clear.

"Ah, then you saw..." Clint broke off, waving vaguely over his shoulder in the general direction of the recently repaired antenna array.

Fury nodded, "Yes, I don't care what you gentlemen get up to in private, but I trust we won't be treated to any more such," he paused to ensure his point was getting across, "_public_ displays."

Clint ducked his head, "No sir," he shifted his weight slightly from one foot to the other, eager to be off.

Few would have noticed the movement, but it had often been observed that Fury saw more with his one eye than most people saw with two. "Did you have somewhere to be Agent?" he asked wryly.

"Yes Sir." There really was no point in trying to lie, although Clint did attemp to control his fidgeting albeit with limited success.

"And I assume that has something to do with Cap coming through here at full tilt a minute ago?"

"It does sir" Clint's eyes flicked down the corridor after the long departed Steve.

"Well, don't you think you'd better get after him then." The end of Fury's sentence was addressed to empty space, Clint was already off and running, "yes sir!" floating back over his shoulder as he went, not giving his commanding officer time to change his mind.

Clint pounded round the corner, skidding to a halt in front of one of the access panels to the system of maintenance shafts that existed throughout the ship. Triggering the release he pulled the panel clear and scrambled through. He'd lost time in talking to Fury but he might still beat Steve to the other man's quarters. The shaft was small, at best Clint could only move in an awkward scuttle, bent over at the waist in the cramped space, at worst he had to slither along on his belly. Clint had never been claustrophobic so the close quarters didn't bother him and he quickly reached a vertical shaft that would take him down three levels cutting a good five minutes off the journey time. Reaching the access point closest to the rooms assigned to the Avengers he quickly exited the shaft system hurrying down one more level and around a corner to find himself alone in the corridor which housed his and Steve's rooms as well as the quarters of all the other Avengers team members.

He sauntered up to Steve's door, finally hearing the sound of pounding feet as he leaned back, nonchalantly to rest his shoulders against the wall. Taking a few deep breaths and closing his eyes he assumed a pose of extreme boredom. Although no-one would know it from his externally relaxed appearance, he was concentrating all his skills on tracking Steve's approach using his hearing. He heard the moment that Steve rounded the corner and saw him waiting by the way the running footsteps suddenly dropped to a brisk walk. He could barely control his smile as he listened to the approaching footfalls until they stopped directly in front of him.

"Sorry to have kept you," Steve offered with a smile, "you could have waited inside if you wanted."

"I didn't like to presume." Clint replied, finally opening his eyes and straightening from his slouched position.

Steve just shook his head, he'd have to do something about Clint's insecurities later, but for now he had other thoughts on his mind and opening the door he waved the other man in first, "Shower's that way" and he pointed to a door on his right.

Clint stepped through the indicated door into a shower room identical to the one in his own quarters, a standard sized shower cubicle, the toilet tucked away behind the door and a corner sink scarcely large enough to warrant the name.

Squeezing to one side and basically sitting on the sink he was able to make sufficient space for Steve to enter the room, close the door and turn on the shower. Clint couldn't believe how fast this was all moving, this time yesterday he had been hiding out down in the belly of the helicarrier crying for all that he had lost with Loki's arrival through the tesseract portal. Now here he was in a room rapidly filling with steam, apparently about to share a shower with Steve Rogers and who knew what would follow.

He was still worried that Steve was pushing himself too far, too fast. He had some vague, jumbled up ideas about Steve's early years and the stricter morality of nineteen forties America. Reaching out he caught the other man's wrists, stilling his arms as he was about to pull his grimy t-shirt up and over his head. "Steve, slow down, you don't have to..." he broke off, unsure what he really wanted to say.

Steve frowned, looking unsure himself now, "you don't want to?" he nodded to the shower.

"Oh I want to, but I know that things were different in your day, I don't want you to push yourself too hard. If you need to wait, to take things slowly then we can do that, whatever you need." and he smiled gently, reassuringly he hoped.

Steve just stared at him for a moment before lifting his hands to cup Clint's face, wrists resting on the smaller man's shoulders. Holding him in this manner he looked directly into Clint's eyes, forcing Clint to look straight into his, "Listen Clint, I appreciate what you're saying, I really do. And things _were_ different seventy years ago. Seventy years ago, if I wasn't an asthmatic weakling, if I was interested in a girl we'd have spent evenings sat on the porch swing under her parents watchful eyes, eventually I'd have asked permission to take her to a dance, maybe we'd have married who knows. But I was asthmatic, and puny, and no-one was interested in someone so small and sickly, so none of that ever happened for me. Then I finally met a girl interested in me, Peggy, and before we could take it any further I had to crash that plane into the polar ice-cap and was frozen for seventy years. I've waited long enough Clint, I've taken things slow and that's gotten me precisely nowhere. Now I've found you and I _really_ want to get laid. OK?"

Clint maintained eye contact, searching those ice blue depths for something only he could understand. He said nothing for so long that the waiting Steve Rogers began to be concerned that he'd pushed too hard and he asked again, "OK?"

Finally Clint answered with a decisive nod, "OK!" and before he could say more Steve was pulling him in for a fierce, but brief kiss that took the younger man's breath away. As soon as he released Clint Steve reached for the hem of his shirt once more, quickly pulling it over his head and discarding it behind him, narrowly missing dropping it into the toilet. Toeing out of his shoes Steve undid his belt and skinned out of his jeans.

Clint watched in awe as the sculpted physique that Steve had been gifted with by the super soldier serum was revealed. And as Steve finally straightened to stand naked before him his mouth went suddenly dry at the sight of him.

His admiring look was cut short as Steve turned to step under the flow of water and Clint became aware that he was vastly overdressed. Stripping as quickly as possible in the confined space he allowed his clothes to lay where they fell and squeezed into the shower cubicle, sidling round the bigger man to stand directly under the flow of water with Steve's reassuring bulk pressed up against his back from calves to crown. A wet, glistening arm reached over his shoulder to the caddy hanging from the fitting in front of him and grabbed the shampoo before withdrawing. A delicious shudder of anticipation rippled through his body and he asked, "and what are you planning to do with that?"

His only reply was a warm, slightly breathless chuckle before he heard the lid flip open. Moments later the arm reappeared, replacing the bottle in its original position, Then two hands descended upon his head and Steve began to vigorously massage the creamy liquid into his hair, swiftly building a luxurious foam that slithered down his face making Clint laugh, Steve really was just going to shower with him.

Picking up the soap he turned to face Steve and started to wash the broad expanse of chest in front of him exploring as he went, running feather light fingers down Steve's flanks and watching delightedly as the other man shimmied slightly in response to the ticklish touch. When Steve had finished with his hair, and he was happy that Steve's chest was clean he nudged the other man to turn and started in on his back, washing it just as thoroughly as the front before dropping to his knees to do the legs. Once satisfied that he'd explored every inch he prompted Steve to turn again so that he could do the front of his legs.

Clint awkwardly climbed to his feet coming up between the other man's arms, pressed against his chest and it was the most natural thing in the world to kiss him, gently, open mouthed allowing their tongues to tangle gently together.

Ending the kiss and seeing that Steve was looking a little glassy eyed Clint reached for the shampoo and started washing Steve's hair, giving the other man time to pull himself together. The quiet man moved docilely as directed, allowing Clint to pull him under the shower head to rinse him off and then to lean him against the side wall so that Clint had space to finish washing himself before shutting off the water and reaching for a towel.

Starting to towel Steve's hair dry Clint saw that the other man was beginning to look a little more with it and was trying to speak so he stilled the towel leaving it draped over Steve's head and leaned in to hear what he was saying.

"I need you" Steve murmured, dipping his head as if ashamed to voice the words.

Carefully Clint tilted his chin back up, "you have me" he gently replied.

A smile stole over Steve's face, "truly?" he asked.

"Yes" was the confident reply.

"In that case," and bending swiftly Steve swung the smaller man up over his shoulder into a rough fireman's carry and stepped out of the shower.

"Hey, put me down, we're both still wet, we'll get the bed soaked." There was also the fact that in the confined space Clint was in constant danger of banging his head or his feet against a wall, but he wasn't planning on mentioning that.

"There are clean sheets in the cupboard," and he reached for the door handle hoisting Clint up to rest a little more comfortably over his shoulder.

"OK, OK, but back into the shower for a second, I need to grab something." As Steve followed the instruction Clint twisted and grabbed the shampoo off the shower caddy, "just in case." he offered in response to Steve's confused look and this time when Steve turned to the door Clint didn't object, instead enjoying the view of Steve's ass as he was carried through.

Passing through a second door brought them into Steve's bedroom, it was just as tiny as Tony's had been, and since Steve had settled for the SHIELD supplied furnishings the bed was even smaller than Tony's. Still there was enough room for the two of them and Steve carefully laid Clint down on the bed, switching on a small side light before moving to lie beside him. Their wet skin slid together deliciously as Clint pulled him in for another kiss and this time neither man broke it off short.

Finally though Clint had to come up for air, it seemed Steve's enhanced lung capacity was good for more than just performing manual labour at altitude without breathing apparatus. Rolling them slightly so that Steve lay flat on his back whilst Clint could look down at him from his superior position, propped up on one elbow Clint began tracing patterns over the, still damp, skin of Steve's chest.

"So, how do you want this to go?" Clint asked, he knew what he wanted, he'd known since the moment he saw Steve's magnificent body revealed in the shower room, but he was still wary of pushing too far in spite of the other man's protestations.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, reaching up a languid hand to run his fingers through Clint's short, spiky hair.

"Well, do you want to top, bottom, do you want a blow-job, a hand-job..." Clint trailed off waiting.

Steve was beginning to get an inkling of what the shampoo was for, he'd done some reading since he'd woken up in this time. Just drifting around the internet, clicking links that looked interesting. It was amazingly easy to end up in totally unexpected places, unexpected but not necessarily unpleasant. So he had a vague idea of the mechanics and he was a little concerned about how that worked, but he definitely knew that he wanted to try everything. He also thought he knew what Clint wanted but his concern about accidentally hurting the smaller man outweighed his need to please him and so he made his decision, "I want to feel you inside me."

Clint swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. He really wanted to feel the super soldier inside him, but what Steve had requested ran that a close second and the flash of disappointment was gone before it even had a chance to register.

"Right then, do you have any slick?" he asked and at Steve's puzzled frown he clarified, "personal lubricant?"

Steve bit his lip uncertainly, "I'm not sure, have a look in the drawer there" and he nodded to the small cabinet beside the bed.

Swinging his legs around Clint sat up to rummage through the top drawer where he quickly located an unopened container of strawberry flavour lube. "How can you not know whether you have lube or not?" he asked light-heartedly as he turned back around and snuggled down beside his super soldier.

"It was Tony," Steve muttered, almost too quiet to be heard.

"Tony?" Clint questioned, not sure that that was really what Steve had said but at Steve's nod he asked, "what is Tony doing buying you lube?" and he started to push himself upright once again. However the strong arm wrapped around his waist had other ideas and he found himself held firm.

"It's not what you're thinking," Steve assured him, "I needed to go clothes shopping and Tony invited himself along, he wanted to take me to some designer store, I think he was ticked off when I refused and took him to Walmart. I don't think he'd ever been inside one of their stores before, he insisted on throwing all sorts of stuff into the trolley. I didn't realise some of it was there until I got back up here to unpack so..."

Clint was trying hard not to laugh, but really he could just picture a petulant Tony being dragged around Walmart, throwing assorted bits and pieces in the trolley just like a tantruming two year old!

"Ah well, remind me to thank him later," and popping the lid off the container he squeezed some of the glistening fluid onto his fingers, "you ready for this?" he asked.

Cut for mature content, if you're old enough you can view the unabridged version at Adultfanfiction

xmen . adult - fanfiction story . php ? no = 600091226 & chapter = 6

as always remove the spaces for the URL.

As Clint's, suddenly strengthless arms gave out beneath him he finally realised the ultimate benefit of taking a super soldier as a lover. Instead of receiving a displeased grunt as he was pushed aside strong arms came up around him where he had collapsed onto Steve's chest and he was held firmly in place. After resting for a few moments he made a half hearted attempt to push himself up, "need to clean us up" he mumbled in explanation.

But Steve was having none of it and his arms simply tightened as he briefly raised his head to press a quick kiss to Clint's hair before dropping back onto the pillow.

"C'mon Steve, we'll stick together, and the bed's all wet, you'll catch your death of cold," Clint tried once more but Steve had no intention of letting him go.

"Wanna be stuck to you, and 'm a super soldier," he murmured, slurring his words with exhaustion, "we don't catch colds!"

A/N: Well there it is, I have a sequel planned but may do that just for my own edification as the response to this story has been beyond dismal!


End file.
